The brotherhood
by angel9skywalker
Summary: A love between too brothers goes beyond comparison, they deal with many challenges. I stink at summaries but the story is good I give the credit to the Author
1. Chapter 1

Not taking any credit this is one of my favorite stories I give credit to the writer

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Brothers from the Start

Lovers until the End

He'd always been able to count on his brother. For anything. Missing homework, forgotten lunch, parent teacher day, protection. But Vince started realizing just how fragile-and human-his brother really was. In a sense, he knew it all along, but because of that first day they'd shared a kiss, he'd never been able to look back on the older, stronger brother that raised him the same. Raised them. Those antecedent childhood feelings were gone.

They'd grown so much since that then, in all ways. Vince's shocking blonde hair was no longer baby soft, long since tangled with the coming of lively activity in teen aging; his clothes steadily grew baggier and hung around his lengthening torso like old sheets, and they were always dirty; even his body was shifting in ways he never could have predicted as an eleven year old. His attitude towards people shifted the likes of certain foods and discomforts with others. His hormones especially-vastly different from when he believed kisses had cooties and babies were brought by giant birds. The only things that hadn't changed about him in those years until he was finally seventeen were his startling hazel eyes and the ruddy hat he'd worn since childhood. It was his father's and he'd never go without it. Those two and the love for his brother.

Though however obvious his own morphing was, the transformation in his brother Sam were far more subtle. Like the stressed circles under his deep blue eyes, his smile natural but tired. Not all were so sad, though, and things like his laughter took a turn for the better. So many sweet things like the way his hands took more action in conversations or how he'd started another job, one he could actually enjoy. And his sex. Of course, between the two siblings, things evolved as they would for any other couple of the same preference. However, Sam restricted himself and his brother until he was of proper age, which didn't come until the boy was fifteen. They debated whom would run the entire bedroom operation, Sam finally getting to conquer Vince based mostly off the fact he was the eldest. And in the end, he found himself not minding. They kissed casually, sexily, goofily, angrily, passionately (though in light of their current situation, it was forbade in public; unanimous decision). They argued and comforted, made choices and ignored the rest world because they were living in their own entirely.

Things had officially sailed from port for the two-man family when Vincent was in his eighth grade year of middle school. The last day before spring break brought stress to the young students while teachers pressed them to pay attention for more than five minutes so things could be explained before they were off. Vince, filled with hormonal angst, mischief and impatience found himself in the principal's office after a quick snap at his English teacher. Sam was called from work to discover his little brother in tears of shame, afraid of the coming ridicule. However, Sam negotiated with the school and had a kind, firm word with him at the park by their house, Vince's favorite place.

"You understand that when you get into this trouble, it goes on your record."

That part was hardly a memory in Vince's mind and didn't come back up until high school.

"And that when I leave work like this to come get you out of trouble, I suffer more of a chance in losing my job."

A guilt that still haunted the youngest.

"I hate to see you cry, VIN. It breaks my heart."

Vincent never forgot that, not for a second in his life.

A wet apology followed, Vince crying into his brother's arm and hoping for God's pity that he would forgive him, though the prayer was well wasted as Sam wasn't even angry. He gave his brother a small kiss on the cheek. Vince asked for another, his feelings hardly comforted. They did this all the time, Sam twenty one and surely seeing it as wrong but wisely not showing it and Vince too accustomed to it to understand. It was not unusual for them to share a small brotherly peck, not unusual that Vince had never slept in his own bed, nor any other bed for that matter, other than one with Sam's welcoming arms. But this time it became different. This time it had cultivated to a long, sensual embrace of interlocking lips, one pair tear stained and salty, the other smooth with the taste of peppermint gum. Both shook with excitement and fear. Vince, in eighth grade. Sam, raising the only family he had left. They found likeness with each other, comfort ability and sanctuary. Something, even as wrong as it was, was nothing more than innocent to the brothers who needed each other to rely on. Needed someone to love.

After that moment, no further kisses of the same intensity were shared for almost an entire year. Though they continued to sleep together, cuddle to watch a movie, sometimes even share a shower, such things were devoid of either mind. Or so it was thought. Vince actually thought about his brother all the time, especially during the dull buzz of class when a test left the room silent and he had moments to imagine all the kisses he wanted. On quiet nights when Sam wasn't home, Vince even dreamt of greater things, caressing his body under hot sheets when the scent of the other filled his nostrils. And through it all, he never found it strange or wrong.

But high school turned Vince into a teenager, and all those childish fantasies looked a little darker. He learned that his wants for Sam were not normal, things like showering and sleeping with family weren't okay. Upon finding this, Vince retorted angrily, feeling betrayed. He left school, went home and prepared himself for when Sam came back from work.

"What is the matter?" Sam asked, knowing already that his brother was upset over something the second they came into view of each other, and immediately went to hug him. Vince tore away, glaring. Sam did not try to touch him again. However mad the younger was at his brother, he could not bring himself to yell at Sam then. The comforting solace swimming in those blue eyes now painted with fear. Or guilt. But it was for him, something so sweet. Finally Sam was able to coax it out of him and Vince confessed his growing worry that they were socially wrong, that everything had been a lie. Like being raised to believe Santa was real only to have the chair pulled out from under you so that you could land on the legos he got you for Christmas.

When all was said and done, Sam did not look a bit surprised though he had a regretful air about him and deep lines of concern ran across his face. Vince had never noticed them before now. "I knew this day was coming." he said, voice calm. "Vincent, there is much we do that others don't. I understand why you are mad. I should not have done what I did. When I kissed you all that time ago, in the park. I should have never let it get that far, and now... I am sorry."

But Vince did not want to hear that. He wanted to hear about how his brother loved him dearly and how they would live this way for years to come, in secret like Romeo and Juliet. That there was a solution somewhere, that Santa could possibly be real under it all. He'd been fooled, he felt betrayed, but the one thing he did not want his brother to tell him that he'd stop loving him.

"I wish you'd kiss me again."

Since then, this phrase was used often, sometimes to persuade but most the time to express love. It worked the first time, why not all the others? And then, before the words had hung in the air for more than a minute, Sam grabbed Vincent's arms and reined him into a kiss filled with so much love, so much passion and long held desire that Vince felt tears falling onto his cheeks from above. This time, he was able to return the love.

For the rest of the year, they knew each other as not only brothers, but also as lovers. Vince, no longer naive, never spoke of the intimate moments he shared with Sam, and somehow never found a need to. To him, Sam was his life, his only comfort, everything that he needed. A question? Sam could answer. A hurt? Sam was there to comfort. He was Vince's Band-Aid for every wound. Though heading into his junior year, things were changing again. They'd gotten passed the awkward beginning a year back, and sex was a commonplace thing in their home ever since he'd turned sixteen. However, things worsened when they were caught in Sam's office at his work and he was fired. They had been close to getting off on it partially, but Sam's boss recognized Vince's face and called Social Services. Things... got hard.

When Vince found he could not see his brother anymore, he broke down. The strong, brave, outward boy threw himself on the floor at the station, screaming that he be let back to Sam. No, they would not let him, not unless he was a registered adult. The next year was a painful one, filled with medications, hospital visits, therapy, and finally institutionalization. He never saw Sam; he couldn't bare to stand it. Vince simply could not control his anger, would not control his anger. Without the only family he had left, he was nothing but an empty shell.

Month after painstaking month, the day came when he was taken from his Mercy School and brought back to the very room they had separated he and Sam in. He practically threw himself into the metal chair, its smooth surface chilling him through to his bones. "Wait here." he was commanded and he snapped back carelessly. They left. When they returned, something he never thought would happen again happened. Sam walked towards him.

There were such changes in each. A year is a long time to be apart. Sam had aged, looking years ahead of himself when he'd always been commented on for how he looked younger. His shirt was big around him; he'd lost weight. The elder found his brother looking pale and utmost unhappy. Bandages covered his wrists. For what felt like forever, in reality only seconds, they took each other in, examined the damages done.

Vince had already abandoned the lifeless chair before Sam was half way across the room and they embraced tightly, tears appearing like bloody droplets on their shoulders. Then they kissed. My God, how it felt like a millennium! "Sam!" was exclaimed between passionate kisses. "Vincent!" Came the reply. Everything was merry and finally free, that was, until they were pulled apart and sat at the metal table by anxious officers. Somewhere along the line, things were explained to Vincent, though he hardly heard and forgot them as they passed through his ears. He was home at last, sitting in Sam's lap while a man in a grey pinstripe suit talked and talked and talked...

"I love you." Vince said, interrupting and not having a single problem with it.

"I love you too." Came the reply.

And they went home.

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Brotherhood II: The Past is Perfectly Gone

There was never a moment in time that Vincent Fischer did not think about his father. Despite the age he d been when the man disappeared forever from both he and Sam s lives, Vince knew enough about him that the man was committed to memory and planned to stay. Sometimes the younger would wonder if he d forgotten anything about Carl Fischer and tried to think of the small things that might have passed from mind. There were few successful instances in resurrecting those from the past. However few, he often found himself with a very dramatic pop of the head and quizzical arch of the brow recalling snippets of conversation he had with the man. Fatherly conversation. Papa to Son. Daddy. Padre. Pop. Father. Pater . What did he call the man in those days?

We both called him Fader , Sam explained to Vin while he cut thick slices of tomato, which would soon be lain in balsamic vinegar sprinkled with parmesan cheese, Vin s favorite appetizer. We re almost entirely Swedish in blood, you know. Our father used to live in Sweden; don t you remember him telling us that? He met our mother there.

No, Vin didn t remember. But he knew it now that Sam never said Mother or Father or even Fader when he talked of their parents. Only our mother or our father . Vin never knew why. It was just Sam, just one of his strange quirks like how he couldn t sip his coffee, cold or not, without dipping his tongue in first every time. Testing the waters, judging the taste before indulging. Vin clandestinely wondered, now at the age of fourteen, if Sam would ever test his little brother s waters, ever dip his tongue into Vin s pools. He sighed when thinking about it, knowing that was something he would never admit to pondering. What good was their secret if Vin wanted the world to know he had a fantasy for his older brother? Many, actually.

Oh well, he d settle with what they had, working on his patience with both his therapist and brother. And during this, he d forget the wants and fix his lively mind on those foggy paternal times. In a sense, Sam was his father. Well, he did the things fathers usually do, like the laundry, cooking, school monitoring, punishing, chore assigning and more of the like. He also handled the talks with teachers when Vincent got in trouble, gave the boy his birds and bees talk which went better for Vin than many of his friends, who claimed it was terribly awkward. Vincent actually got more ideas from the chat than he did jitters. He supposed it helped getting it from a brother you were madly in love with and spent holidays enjoying the family time and present opening. Vin was never disappointed on Christmas and was always thankful his brother had a not only flexible, but quite lucrative career in editing and heading a magazine. He supposed he realized this more than the average boy, as he was always noticing how tired Sam could become after a long day at work, returning home to fix dinner for his younger brother and entertain him during his boyish angst.

Vin had been just a little toddler when his father had passed away, though he remembered clearly the day it happened. It was autumn, his father s favorite time of year, which he felt was the perfect time for artists for it not only let the eye see its brilliant array of color and beauty, but also added finesse to the other senses, for example, the sound of birds migrating to warmer country or the smells of leaves soaking up nightly perspiration on the ground after their trip from the branches. How a smoky aroma would waft through the air like Mother Nature s perfume, turning smiles up and letting each human revert back to days of living in the wilderness. Well, it was one of those days, and in fact, it was a Tuesday. Sam was twelve years old at this time and was home from school because he d been sick for the last couple of days. Though, he promised to be back to school by Wednesday so he wouldn t miss his English exam, and Carl was kind to let him work on a little writing in his room instead of doing chores. Carl never believed in squandering creativity, especially not in his sons.

Come on Ilene was playing on the radio next to a large board of stretched canvass Carl had been painting with both oils and watercolors, a handsome autumn scene he d watched evolve outside his shop window, when his arm had suddenly felt stiff. Then the veins burned, shooting pain up his shoulder. The man realized what was happening, but not before it was too late to do anything. His heart attack swelled to his entire body, and he fell from his stool and to the floor. It was a short pain, thankfully, and a quick death. The medical examiner assured the two boys of this; Carl had died within a two minute span of his heart convulsing before ceasing entirely. Sam found him with a paintbrush still clenched in his hand, a spread of orange paint still on its tip. Carl s favorite color.

When Sam had suddenly appeared at Vin s preschool, the boy was thrilled. Sam was taking him out! Though he felt sad that he d miss nap time, which was in thirty minutes according to Mrs. Pruitte, he took his brother s hand and skipped along beside him while they walked towards home. But they didn t go home. His brother led him into town, to the hospital. Vin was confused. He wasn t hurt, and Fader didn t tell him he had another check-up with the nice doctor whose name he couldn t remember. Those lollypops sure were wonderful, but you had to behave to get them. He wondered if he d get one even if he didn t have to get a check-up from one of the ladies at the counter.

The rest, now that the youngest of the family looked back on it, was oddly specific. The shoes he was wearing that day were quite vivid in his memory, as well as the lucky hat he d worn nearly all his life and continued to do as such; the shirt Sam wore was an off-white button-up, the sleeves rolled like his father always did, and there was a smudge of paint on his cheek. Orange. His face wasn t red or stained with tears, nor were his eyes bloodshot and puffy. His hands were not wet from wiping away his pain, they were only cold. This was strange. Sam s hands were never cold, and they never, ever shook like this. Sam had steady hands, like his father. Vincent had impatient ones, though good for catching baseballs and drumming anxiously on table-tops. But suddenly, Sam wasn t anything like himself. His straight, blond hair that he and Vince both got from their mother was perfect as usual, but his bangs were floating upward, like he d been running his hands through them compulsively. And his face, it was empty, stiff and serious. There was no smile, and he didn t swing his hand with Vin s in it. Didn t take both of Vin s arms and spin him in a circle. In fact, he didn t even look at his little brother as he led him along corridors and up stairs, until they reached a grey, metal door. Its knob turned counterclockwise and would not open otherwise. Vin knew this still.

A nurse greeted them, and Sam sat down. Only now Vincent felt something was off. Where was his daddy? Why were there people in this room, why did they all look so mad? It wasn t then he realized they were not angry, only remorseful that these children had been left alone at such a young age, now orphans. And there was that man that always talked with Daddy. He was called a lawyer or something. Sam What s wrong? he asked slowly, big eyes wide, and he stood by Sam s knees, hugging them.

Sam took Vincent into his lap. Fader is dead, Vinny. Sam told him. Many years later, Sam admitted to Vincent through a few tears that he never meant to be so horrible then, and hated himself for having said what he did. He wished he d told the youngster about the death of their father with tact and careful, considering phrases the boy would take easier. Vincent found it unproblematic to forgive him, though mostly because he did not wish to cause the man pain. For him, it still hurt as well, stung like a group of wasps on the skin of his arm.

They weren t terribly poor, but being an artist meant you never had a constant pay, so the funeral was private and quite informal. Sam said he didn t want anyone coming, not that they had any other family to speak of, and even the friends his father had weren t to attend. They came by the house a couple times after the children s father was laid to rest in order to give their condolences, but didn t stay long and didn t return. Vincent always speculated if his brother had instructed them as such or if they simply did not care so much. The latter seemed less likely, though still plausible.

What was Fader painting the day he died? Vin asked his brother as the plate of tomatoes was set in front of him on the granite counter. He leaned forward, smelling it first with his elbows perching him up, the stool he sat on tipping. Then he jabbed in with a fork, scooping the thick slices of fruit into his watering mouth whole. Sam s eyebrows rose and he rested on one hand, the other on his hip. He gave his brother one of his looks and the boy slowed his eating.

An autumn landscape. He answered, handing him a paper napkin. There was a large orange leaf in the top right corner, in the center was a tree standing alone in a field with blue and red mountains in the background. He didn t finish the top half of the painting, so the sky, mountains and tip of the tree were white.

How did his brother remember so much? The man was too smart in Vin s opinion it didn t help that his brother had a photographic memory and knew exactly how everything in the house looked and when Vin touched them, including the cookies in the cupboard. Oh. I don t remember that one. He admitted. Where is it?

His brother paused, tilting his head a bit as his gaze drifted past Vin s head to the window behind him. I don t know. I can t remember.

That idea was laughable.

Vin knew his older brother was hording all of his father s possessions in the house, hidden in places Vin would only find by accident. For instance, when he was nine, Vin wandered into his brother s den for a ruler to use in his homework. Moving through the desks, he found a plastic case. Not that he suspected the ruler was in it, he opened the thing and found a paintbrush with old, crumbling dried paint on the tip. Orange. When he brought it to Sam, his older brother nearly had a heart failure and stole the thing away. You cannot touch this, Vincent! he d scolded, eyes both hurt and angry. Vin didn t mean anything by it and stayed mad at his brother for a long time after that, but finally things were explained and the youngster realized just who s paintbrush that had been and when it had been used last. Vin wouldn t come close to it after that, the thing like a dark curse he wished very much to avoid. The paintbrush now sat on the top shelf in Sam s room, laying silently in its case, untouched.

Things of the like were found everywhere, some not hidden, like his father s typewriter, which Sam still used to this day, even if he had a laptop sitting right beside it. It was hard for Sam not to cherish the man he d known so well. The thing was, when their mother died, Vin was barely six months old, and Carl was left with two fine sons to take care of and raise on his own. They d moved to the country, away from the apartment that had so many painful spirits left in it, and Vin grew up in that ranch house and stayed until they were forcibly removed by Child Services. There were eighteen acres that the two boys could run around on and explore, and a river that running through a grove of pine trees that, in summer, they would all take a day out of every week to go swimming in. They spent almost all of their summers outside, at the beach or park or just in their backyard. It was tradition to take a hike up the mountains every July. The father gave his sons all of the love in his heart since he did not also have a wife to offer his precious care to. Some could say he spoiled them as well as taught them values that don t last forever in life. But Carl loved his sons. The three person family was as close as emotionally possible, even more so between Sam and his father, who was old enough to understand life s complications and why their mother had been lying in the bathtub of red water when they d come home one winter night when Vin was only six months old.

The sons idolized the man and they were his reasons for living life to the fullest every day. When he d died, the brothers drew tightly to each other for security, but there was no amount of love or creativity in the world that could replace the most inspirational figure in their lives. Sam knew he could never pay his father back for what he d been taught. Vincent knew it was impossible to forget the biggest, warmest, best hugs and brightest, happiest smile behind that scruffy brown beard.

When Sam and Vince realized they were in love with each other, it did not come without confliction. Still being older and more understanding of reality, Sam without Vin s knowledge, thankfully, as it would break the boy s heart wondered if his father would ever be ashamed of him. For taking his own little brother into his arms for the wrong reasons, in the wrong way. Holding him and wanting him; kissing him and touching him with intimate intentions. What would his father believe? The man who d at all times taught them truth was just another fictional story always worth the time to finish and lies were horror novels that taught you to read, what would he say? Sam did not know. As well as he knew the man, he was truly alien to the answer. It was as if the figure that had raised him was a mystery, something unreal that whenever Sam asked these questions to himself at night, while his arms wrapped tenderly around the small shoulders of his sibling, he could not find the right answer.

Vincent did not see it this way. The boy, now that he knew well enough that their relationship was wrong in the eyes of all people but them, always pictured his father s face as a smiling one, that special smile that let the man s white teeth beam past the straight, rounded wires of his golden brown beard and drew lines of happiness next to his bright blue eyes. The same ones Sam toted like a chunk of sky carved from heaven. Everyone loved Sam s eyes, especially women, and Vin resented that fact while he stared at his own hazel ones in the mirror, which were from his mother. But he knew that the blues of the elder brother only sparkled like they did when they were looking at him, and it gave the boy a selfish satisfaction. He felt the same when his father used to gaze upon him as a boy, or patted him on the shoulder in his dreams. Yes, he had many dreams about his father seeing him as he was now, a grown boy with many wild hopes and aspirations that were farther than the stars. His wild imagination never ceased to lead him even in his sleep. Carl came to him many a time while he and Sam rested together under the covers, and the invisible, unreal hand pet the boy s hair until he was asleep, a soundless voice whispering just how proud he was of them. Such good boys His father told him while his eyelids grew heavy. You are so grown, Vin, look at you! Now go to sleep, I will see you tomorrow night. I love you, Vin, I always love you.

Sam wasn t visited in his sleep as much as he was during the day by his own conscience. There was a terrible pain that hit him often when he thought of how he d found his father lying on his back behind his stool, toes pointing upward, face staring blankly at the ceiling. Paints scattered around him, their tubes crinkled and twisted, the contents dotting the cement tiles like rainbow blood. How pale the man had been even with the morning light shining on his face, giving him a halo of radiance. How still his working hands were. How unmoving his chest.

Fader? he d whispered, but he knew. And he walked to him, in no hurry to see him this way, and knelt at his side. Felt his neck, lay his temple against his breast, where he felt no heart beating, even frugally, against his ear. All he could think of at this moment was how he d have to explain this to Vin, how they d never get to have Scrambled Egg Sundays or go to the brook to swim. Things like the piano, how they d never see Carl sitting at it again, wanting to play Pachelbel s Canon like his wife used to but unable to and instead tapping out Bye Bye Blackbird brokenly. Now his father was Blackbird, and Sam wasn t ready to say goodbye.

Time eclipsed their pain and the brother s moved on from the ranch house. Though they owned it to this day as something Sam could never let go, nor his little brother. They d lost it once when he was young, a boy and unable to keep it right after their last parent s death, but the moment Sam turned eighteen and scored a job at the Cole s Daily newspaper, he d bought it off the market. They d not moved back in, as it was too far from Sam s job, but every Fall they went back for a week; Sunday for Scrambled Egg through Wednesday, the day after their father s death, and they d swim in the brook and hike up the mountains as always guaranteed by their late father. The change of season did not matter to them, and even when the wind was brisk and chilled, they kept their traditions.

Vin, how does ice cream sound? Sam asked the boy suddenly, drawing him from his memories and thoughts as the man had forcibly done to himself. Sitting on his knees on the stool seat, Vin kicked his legs back and forth, smiling.

Sure. What for? he said, grinning in the way that wrinkled his nose. Sam smiled, putting the cleaned and dried cutting board away. Well, he replied, coming around the island counter and placing his hand on Vin s hat, ruffling it and the flaxen hair beneath. Why bother with a reason? Don t you want some?

Of course, chocolate with the brownie in it. And strawberry on top, a whole scoop! I was just wondering why. Vin swiveled the stool so that he now faced the older, trying to look his cutest so his conscience would feel less guilty about picturing himself sharing a bite of ice cream with Sam. His older brother was less lewd about his thoughts, though he couldn t lie to himself and say it was far off. Better at masking it, however, he tugged a chunk of bang out of Vin s eyes and looked thoughtful.

Chocolate with brownies and strawberry on top? he said slowly, and smiled. Sounds like cavities in the making. You sure?

Most definitely. Vin assured him, perching higher by pushing on the cushion with his hands between his thighs. So can we go get some?

Sure thing, just change out of that dirty sweatshirt and we ll head down to City Market right now. Then I ll book you a dentist appointment next week.

Vin hopped off his seat and scampered to his room, tugging off the oversized hoodie as he went. While hunting for his cleaner sweatshirt, he thought about how he was going to somehow trick Sam into giving him a kiss tonight. Maybe he could get Sam to kiss his neck again, like that one time in the shower. But Sam wasn t like that, which made the boy sad. Already in his early teens, he was ripe with hormonal torment and craved what he knew his brother could give him, but Sam was an adult and always told him that things like that were not appropriate for a boy his age. Vin was of course skeptical and scoffed at his brother s way of protecting him, and continued to try and get the man to become more intimate with him. He liked it when once Sam had touched him down there. It wasn t on purpose, but he liked to imagine it was. Or when his hand pats his butt, it makes him get hot all over, and tingly. A bit dizzy. He d get a kiss tonight, he was determined.

Going to the mirror, he looked at himself. He was shorter than Sam by far, who was taller than their late father even when he was sixteen, having acquired their mother s height of six-three by the time he was old enough to vote. Vincent was a stringy thing at twelve, thin and wild faced. Always dirty from playing outside, Vin s hair was thicker than Sam s and not as feathery, a tiny bit wavy at the ends that poked out of his favorite Lucky Hat, which was faded from wear but fit him perfectly even on a hot day like it was today. Seeing that he did in fact look irresistible by his standards, Vinny returned to the kitchen, child-sized skateboard under his arm. Sam was pleased without his little brother dragging around that horribly filthy jacket, and put his infamous brown driving coat on, which was popular with girls and men alike at his office building. Vin was scrutinizing, too liking his brother in it as it made him look quite sophisticated and yet shifty, a little dangerous. Vin liked dangerous. Their relationship was dangerous. But he didn t appreciate other people thinking this about his brother as well.

They walked from their apartment into the city, Vin skating in large circles around his brother in a very skillful way for his age when they met the City Market parking lot. Working his fine balance towards the inside turn, he came up right behind Sam and jumped off his wheels, falling into him. Oops. He said, his arms around Sam s waist lest he fall to his face.

Did you trip, Vin? Are you alright? his brother inquired and Vin s ploy was successful. He looked up at his brother from underneath his arm, cheeks pink because he was now touching Sam down there. It nearly had him giggling without end.

I m good. He stuttered out. Sam blinked, stopping.

Ok. He said. Something was going on in his brother s mind, because he didn t say anything, only stared at Vin. Then he realized why: he was still holding onto him.

Lets go get the ice cream, c mon, hurry up. Vin said quickly and scampered off, catching up to the run-away skateboard and was about to get crushed by a Sedan backing out of a space. Sam sighed. His younger brother s wants and desires were going to get them caught, he feared, and the thought terrified him. His own heart was still thumping wildly in his chest. He watched silently as Vince hopped back on his board and pushed himself towards the automatic doors of City Market. What will I do when the time comes that I cannot tell him no anymore? He thought to himself, and grabbed a shopping basket from the stack, heading towards the frozen section. Fader, what is wrong with us?

Found the chocolate brownie, here you go. Vin set the carton of BlueBunny in the basket. Then quite suddenly his little head popped up and his thin eyebrow jerked upward on his forehead, making the skin crease. Sam stopped, seeing the reaction and familiarizing with it.

Remember something about our Fader? he asked, seeing no strawberry behind the glass. He searched the rows again.

Yeah. Vin replied thoughtfully, hanging off of Sam s arm. Remember when Fader said he was going to make us banana ice cream by himself? Sam s face frowned, eyes going back and forth the labels behind the glass.

No I don t. Do you?

Vin nodded, blowing a hot breath on the door and drawing a small smiley face in the fog, and then scribbling it out. He redrew his initials instead, and then Sam s right beneath. Sam wiped the art away before the plus sign between their names was drawn next. He made it and it was like we had to chew n stuff cause it was so chunky. Like goopy gum or something. The little brother looked up at Sam expectantly.

Quiet. Then Sam s face became enlightened and he smiled gently. Yes, I do remember now, actually. He said, surprised he d forgotten. Wasn t that on Easter?

Nuh-uh, it was on Thanksgiving, member? We hard boiled the turkey like KFC.

Sam laughed outright. Don t you mean we deep fried the turkey, Vin? You can t hard boil a turkey. The younger blushed, skipping off.

That s what I said. After a moment. Sam, I can t find the strawberry!

So they settled for banana, also some caramel syrup because Vin was looking quite adorable with a puppy face, and went quickly home before their goodies could melt. After a dinner scrumptiously made by no one but Sam, they settled down in the kitchen at the island again, Sam once more standing by the sink and Vin perched on his well worn stool. Scooping ice cream into his mouth, the boy grinned.

Sam watched, sipping off his own spoon of banana and caramel. He didn t like chocolate, unlike Vin, who had to have four cavities by now. What? he asked after a while of Vin s continuous smiling and giggling. The boy looked like he was up to something.

I got ice cream on my mouth. He said in a childish tone, leaning across the island on his stomach. His feet kicked back and forth behind him and he did indeed have a swath along his small pink lips.

Wipe it off then. Sam said, a confused smile meeting his lips. Vin s nose wrinkled, a sign of impatience.

You do it. He said, wiggling farther across the granite.

You have hands, Vin, why don t you take that napkin over there and do it?

My hands are cold!

Sam sighed lightly, unsure of why his little brother was being so troublesome, and set his bowl down. Vin s face brightened considerably. Taking the step it took to get to the island, Sam reached out with his thumb to remove the strawberry-chocolate-caramel mess. Vin dodged, turning his face. Sam tried again. Vin evaded just the same. He gave a short sigh, moving quickly for the lips, but Vin jerked back.

Now, will you hold still? Sam said exasperatedly through chuckles, trying to grab to Vin s head and hold it firm. The boy shook loose.

Get it off. He insisted.

Well, I m trying, but you keep Sam trailed off as he connected the dots and realized what his little brother meant. It made the man stop and he stared down at him. What a little sneak. He sighed, putting on his orderly voice. Vin, I can t

Get it off!

Vin

This made him sigh again. His brother was just so cute, but a rambunctious thing. Sam couldn t, it would only lead Vince on to other aspirations, ones which Sam refused to relent to until the boy was older. The determined look on the others little ice cream dabbed face made him want to, but it wasn t appropriate. Not when

Sam. Please get it off. The quiet voice woke him. Vin was beginning to look sad, though he was still quite adamant. The older brother sighed a third time and, unable to resist, laid his palms on the cool rock counter and silently leaned in. Vin perched up, but waited for Sam to do it, willing the man to give it to him instead of resentfully accepting it. Sam s gentle mouth touched Vin s, and the moment it did, Sam fell for the trick. Another reason he never did this: It made him want more, like the boy was a delicious cake he sought to devour and consume entirely. He couldn t do that, but Vin made him want to. Badly.

Vin moved up more on his hands, Sam pressing downward, the ice cream still cool and quite sticky between their lips. Realizing this slowly, Vin moved his bottom lip between the two pressing into his, and Sam picked it up, sucking ever so lightly. Swiping a bit with just the very tip of his tongue, Sam cleared the area of sweetness, the three flavors combining in his mouth tastefully, and withdrew. That was all he was going to do, lest it worsen his liking for the boy. At least Vin seemed satisfied and grinned victoriously at Sam.

Can we go take a shower ?

No, finish your ice cream and go to bed. Don t push it any more, do you hear? Sam cut him off, shaking his head with a weary smile, and wiped the itty bit of caramel that transferred from his brother s lips to his. He was a slinky thing, tricking him like that. It made him wonder if he d actually tripped at City Market, nearly making Sam stumble himself and certainly quickening his heart rate.

Vin was happy with what he got, but figured if that worked, then he might do more later after Sam was back to being unawares. So the boy readied for Operation II and came to find Sam in his den to tell him he was off to bed now.

Alright. Did you brush your teeth after all that ice cream? his brother asked, looking up from a few bills in need of paying. He had his glasses on, which Vin liked. They gave the effect of Kent Clark, Vin thought, which he found impressive. Though he liked Spiderman better; Superman just didn t have any style or cool tag-lines.

Twice. He answered. You coming?

I ll be along shortly. He said, which usually meant thirty minutes to an hour. Vin would have to busy himself until then, he figured, already having a few ideas. Moving into the room, he kissed his brother on the cheek and headed off to bed. Night.

Night, Vin.

The wait was longer than he expected, but that was alright, because Vincent had quite the way of entertaining himself. Things were happening to his body that amazed him, and he already knew what it was, having gone through that talk with Sam. And that s who he thought of right now while he gave himself a tickle or two. Sam. Why couldn t he just stop being such a grump and just do those special things to Vin already? He was clearly impatient and ready. Silly brother

I see you re still awake. I told you to get to sleep. Sam s voice traveled across the master bedroom and Vin withdrew his hand from its fantasies and sighed heavily, resting it by his head on the pillow. That was alright, he could always come back to that later.

I m not tired. He moped. He watched Sam taking his clothes off to change into his bed wear, hazel eyes furtive and a little reproachful. Sam was being bad, dressing like that in front of him. It made the younger yearn, especially tonight.

Well, you ll have to be. Sam replied, now coming under the covers, and sighed heavily while he sank into the mattress, rubbing his eyes. That ice cream gave me a headache. Vin giggled, betraying his resentment for a moment. He bounced over on his other side and prodded at Sam s cheek with a finger, scooting closer as he did so.

You re a pansy. He said matter-of-factly.

Pansy? I am not so. Sam replied, looking over at him with a smile. He reached across himself to drag the dirty hat from Vin s head. The boy would sleep in it if he let him. Just susceptible to sugar. You are too, that s why you can t go to sleep.

No, I can t go to sleep cause you never wanna kiss me. Vin said before he could stop it from getting out. Sam stared and the small boy blushed, chewing the inside of his cheek.

Sam sighed, not a good sign for Vin, who instantly reclused and turned over. Vin, you know why I don t. his brother said, and the responsible tone in his voice made Vince glare at the opposing wall.

That s stupid. He said, hurt.

No, it s not. Sam replied, sitting upward and resting his head on his propped hand, hovering over the other younger male. It was his turn to prod Vin s cheek. If anyone knew, you know they would take you away, don t you? They wouldn t let you be with me anymore.

But no one is gunna see when we re at home. Vin said, his eyes teary with disappointment.

No Sam responded slowly and rubbed his brother s arm. But if you get used to it now, you might want to outside of the house. I don t want to risk it.

You re just scared. Vin snapped, stuffing his face into his pillow. Sam now wrapped his arm around Vin.

Yes, I am scared, Vincent. Much to the young boy s surprise, a pair of lips fell down on the tip of his shoulder, kissing firmly. Then Sam s face was right in Vin s neck, making the boy s hair stand on end and his heart beat at his chest. His blood was running hot. Sam sighed through his nose, the breath falling across Vin s collar and down his chest, under his small night shirt. Vin The heavy voice said lowly and it was like honey through the twelve year old s ears. You know I love you. The hand around him slid across his side, drawing a short breath from Vin. Sam paused behind him. And Some night I ll kiss you the way you want me to, and we ll do the things you want me to do, that I want to do, but For now we need to be patient. You understand, don t you? There s a time for everything, and for you It s not for a couple of years.

Vin was still staring at the opposite wall, but his eyes were wide, and he realized he d been holding his breath. He let it out quickly, dizzied as he d never been before and totally excited. He just hoped Sam wouldn t notice his little problem. Sam had never spoken to him this way, never admitted they were going to be doing things in the future, all the things he fantasized about when he was alone in the bed, smelling Sam s scent everywhere around him.

After a long silence, Sam wondered if he d scared his little brother and leaned over him to see his face. Vin?

Do you think Fader would be proud of us? Vin whispered, making Sam s hand stop moving in slow circles on his brother s hip. Now there was silence from the other.

Why did you ask that? he whispered finally, carefully masking his own indecision on the matter.

Vin sighed heavily, folding his hands under his head. I just keep thinking about him and Sometimes I think he still watches us. Like right now. Sam had to stop himself from actually looking around the room. Ever since Vin was a little boy, he could sense odd things about certain places, feel when there was something, perhaps spirits, amok around him. It had always been this way, and was one of the reasons Sam had Vince going to a child therapist once every two weeks.

Do you feel him here? Sam asked quietly, and his hand moved away from Vin. The boy pulled it back, wrapping it around his stomach and scooting backwards into the hard chest behind. Sam felt worried and conflicted.

A little he said, barely audible. Sam s heart raced and Vin felt it. Sometimes when I m alone, I smell him Like hickory and new books. And those nasty oil paints. And turpentine and watercolors. Like new canvas and burnt pancakes. He sniffed. Old jeans and tall, yellow grass.

The older brother had never heard Vin talk of their father this way. He didn t even think the boy remembered their dad that well. But now it appeared he knew many a things, even some that Sam had forgotten or never noticed. I remember him smelling like that. Some of it. I don t remember the burnt pancakes Sam admitted and rested heavily on his pillow because his shoulder was aching. Why do you think he s here?

Because he wants to make sure we re doing okay. You especially. Vin said, wondering why he had even brought it up. Normally he wouldn t, but he had been unsure. Would Fader be ill at ease with their being in love? He d never thought of that, at least not in the way Sam did, and now he was. He misses us a lot and and he says he loves us always.

Sam didn t say anything, taking his turn to hold his breath. One of his eyes welled with a tear and he placed it against the pillow so the feathers could soak it up before Vin had the chance to see. But the brother wasn t looking, now fiddling with his fingers in front of his eyes. He came even closer to Sam.

I don t think he ll ever get mad at us. Vin said in a hush. He wants us to stick together, like No matter what.

Does he? Sam breathed, barely audible with his voice filled with emotion. Vin finally rolled over, stuffing his face into the chest before him.

I love you, Sam. I don t care what they think out there I don t care about anything. He said shakily, and again he felt a presence beyond the bed, watching them. He closed his eyes after glancing over and seeing no one. I-I just wanna be happy Like Fader was before he died. Like in the pictures of him and Mader, before we were born.

Sam pet his brother s hair, kissing the shell of his ear. He was happy, wasn t he? Pulling himself together for the boy in his arms, Sam pat his back and settled them in. Well, if you say he s happy with us and wants us to stick together, then we will. Always, alright?

H-hokay was the reply. The older brother gave Vin a gentle kiss before bringing the little head into his arms, wrapping him tight just as he always liked. With several sighs from each, they started readying for sleep and the room cooled in the night s shadows.

How about we go get some strawberry ice cream from the Safeway across town tomorrow? Sam said suddenly in the silence, whispering it into Vin s small ear. He boy shifted a bit.

No, let s get banana. Chunky banana. 


	3. Chapter 3

The Brotherhood III: Only Shadows Watching

It was cold in the room. Vin shivered and shook under the damp sheets, teeth chattering behind his lips, the cracks of his eyes watering. His skin was painted with goosebumps and lathered in sweat, twitching and convulsing across the lean physique that encapsulated his lithe musculature. Hazel eyes were glazed and shuttered by long lashes, the only things able to show willing movement while they slowly slid back and forth across their white space. Another form moved above him, more graceful and calm with its movement, but a mere shadow. No more than a shadow with eyes like the sky.

How had he gotten here? It was a long time ago to think back to. For now, Vincent s body ached with sensations now null to his mind. Such a numbness had overcome his thoughts. But he smiled somehow when warm lips came to meet his. Sam he thought. My Sam

Time rewound. Their soft embrace, a tangle of long gentle arms, threw back into rows of passion, effort and force. Skin drove against skin, the bones beneath chafing and burning while they immersed in each other s flesh. It hurt and blazed like a white flame, but there were no breaks. The body, as of the time, was blind to pain, ignorant of the incommodious hurt. It was passion; frivolous, desperate passion.

Sam Sam Vin would cry, gasp, scream. Oh, it hurt, but he had already forgotten. The important feelings were his arms wrapped around broad shoulders, legs open to embrace smooth hips, and the pillow sliding sneakily under his back to leave his scolding neck virgin to the frozen sheets. Sam had left the window open, knowing the heat that would consume the entire room and its occupants, and indeed it had been hot; like being in an oven, cataclysmic boilers tipping liquid hot iron into a vat as scorching as the sun. They rolled around for hours until finally the heat was inside, bursting into him. Vincent accepted, thirsting for the flood as if he had Moses in his soul. Wash away the wrongs, let him swallow the right. Sam Sam

Though his lover was silent, Vince knew his calls had been returned in physicality, the body speaking more words in quiet than anything a tongue could flick off its witty tip. Besides, there would be time for that poetry later. Sam s hands, as of this moment, said I love you. Holding his face, petting it; one sneaking down Vin s stomach and beyond to thrill him. Sam s lips spoke history to his chest, old hurt now tenderly healed by first time love. Loss of innocence. Sam s eyes, oh, Sam s eyes were screaming continuity. The rest of his body may age and die, but his sparkling, gleaming blue eyes would last forever. Vince kissed those eyes.

The silent rapture of the room was presently intoxicating, though all the heat gone from Vincent s body. Not even a distant Sam could be ushered from his quivering lips. He was not scared, no, all such childish feelings were vanished, like rabbit from a magician s hat. Now, he only shivered from the cold, distant in a haze.

Gentle touches. Like footprints dancing up his stomach, chest and neck. I love you hands whispered on his cheek while lips continued to roam his land. I love you Vin noiselessly sang back with his fingers on a strong chest, down a perked, dark n****e, across ribs and finally taking tiresome rest on the sheets. Cold, wet sheets. It had been long since he last inhaled and he finally realized why. It was a burden to have love weighted on your chest, especially that of your elder brother.

Words of concern broke the perfect stillness and Vince was forced to waste energy he didn t have to reply. Tired His voice was found to be pleasingly hoarse. A relieved sigh from above. Though there would always be concern for later, knowing that a hitch in his step was obvious when he walked and his blatant exhaustion would anger teachers during class. He cursed himself; it was a school night.

With words being so exuberant before, the new silence was rather unsettling. It gave the brothers time to think about what they d done. After all, it wasn t exactly moral sainthood, and if anyone knew Vincent wasn t eighteen yet, two years to go, and Sam was six years older than him.

Vin Hey, Vin. Loving hands now patted his cheeks, rousing him from his deep thoughts. He instantly replied by wrapping his arms around the long torso above him, letting them rest, locked, along his warm back. It ached to do so. How could Sam have so much heat? Vin, I love you so much.

I love you too, Sam. He replied. Those doubtful thoughts from before were worthless against such prevailing phrases. Who cared what society thought? Let them be selfish; for now, the two were being just. With a profound shiver, Vincent rubbed his body back and forth against the sheets, still wet with perspiration. I m cold.

His brother s shadowy movement was quick and after a moment of adjusting, the two were holding close to one another under the covers. Mhm, you re nice and cool.

Sam s husky, deep voice in Vincent s ear.

The younger was as cold as Sam was hot and each rather counteracted the other comfortably. It wasn t long before their temperatures evened out and they were dozing. Vin s vision was still blurry, his body dehydrated and sore, and he busily distracted himself by threading his fingers over and over through Sam s straight bangs.

Will your restlessness be active all night? Sam asked, one eye sliding open. A color kissed over the younger brother s cheeks and his fingers stopped. He d forgotten how still his brother was in sleeping. Thank you.

Though Sam s large hands pet over Vince s waist and hips, and the brother did not close his eyes again. Was it so obvious Vin wanted company? Are you sore?

Of course, Sam was concerned. A reply came as a small, shrugging nod and dismissal. Sometimes an older brother could be too caring, a younger teen not enough. But, yes indeed, Vincent was beginning to feel a pain in his lower back, one that was spreading like a hot steam up his spine from his entrance spot, more commonly used as an exit, between his legs. His tailbone felt more like putty. He shifted uncomfortably.

The room was possibly cooler than before, especially since their activity had ceased. Chilling air swept over the lovers like a winter cloak, draping them in shivers with a frozen cowl and forcing jaws to chatter. Sam slipped out of bed to close the window, again becoming a light shadow. Hazel eyes watched with interest, loving curiosity that awoke his mind belay the counteractions of the body. It was Sam s form that intrigued. So tall, lean and pale; a beauty like moonlight beneath pliable skin that practically radiated through the thin flesh and while a hand reached out to push on the window, generous muscles could be seen, flexing like rubber bands over his bones. A finely tuned chest, smooth and thick, descending like a pour of milk to sharply angled hips and a firm buttocks; tall legs, long for past days in running first place. He was perfect, with his angel blue eyes and faerie-blond hair sweeping off to one side, out of the way, out of his thin face with its high cheekbones and pointed jaw, ideal for kissing. Pixie ears. The man was a fairytale, alive and ingenious. Lips of ivory, faintly blushed and slim, elastic, enunciated with perfected articulation, guardians to the velvet tongue behind. An artist s tongue. The stronger appendage and yet softer than any other part of his body, sweet, experienced; Vincent s favorite play-thing. It was a generous toy.

Oh, if only dreams could speak! Vin could not count the times he d dreamt of seeing his older brother the way he did now. Imagined those flawless hands palming down his sides, wrapping around his want, his need, his every desire. Touching his insides in a hundred different ways, elevating their lust for one another in absolute pleasure and euphoria. Vin wanted to delight his brother, wanted him happy. But he also wanted Sam to touch him. There were times he felt he couldn t live without a simple caress. When things finally came down to it, he could have died when he was touched. It was just too good to be true.

The bed sank beneath Sam s knees when he returned, finally recognizing the cold and quivering. Lifting the fluorescent sheets, billowing ghosts in the night, they found warmth together once more and dozed peacefully. With eyes adjusted to the night, Vince let his gaze pan around the room. It was blue by the light of the moon, a color that always calmed him, even depressed him at times.

Sam His voice was low, a hush over the steady breathing of his elder lover, who s arm had moved over him reflexively at the sound of his voice. There was never a tire of the name; however, while the younger lay restless, Sam was surely tired. My a** hurts.

Sam would grunt a short response about using proper language and melded their bodies together a perfect fit with the patience of a father and the care of a lover. Always the protective quality of a brother.

Though he was an understanding man, forever and for always, Sam let Vince settle down again to let him try and forget about it. This technique usually worked more often than not. It was naught. Vin wouldn t let this one go, holding with prideful resilience to his pain like a battle scar left from the war of love. Though this was rather conflicting, as it was quite painful. He truly hoped it wouldn t be worse by morning.  
Dark shapes played tricks on the boy s mind, fitting in and out of discernable shapes before his eyes. Lower the lids fell, slowly, slowly, until they were closed. Sleep ensued and the room was cold. Only shadows watched now. 


	4. Chapter 4

The Brotherhood - part 4

Vin stared out at the rain, his hands on the bars of the window, cold to the touch and bitter like the room, a taciturn and emotionless prison. Not that the gown he wore helped, not with its open back and thin fabric. And its stupid polka dots. He wished the rain would just stop. Then he changed that thought and instead wished he was a raindrop. A quick descent before you splashed to the ground and became a puddle, how easy would that be? How nice? So free and beautiful

He wasn t sure what he should be feeling right then. With the medication they had him on he couldn t tell if any of this was real or just another one of his dreams. But at least the windows opened in this place, despite the bars behind them, and he could reach his hand out to feel it soaked by an icy rain within seconds. It felt wonderful. He was sick of the constantly lukewarm showers here and the lukewarm food and the lukewarm rooms. All it did was remind him of the warmth he missed the most. Sam s warmth.

Love isn t always on time, he thought suddenly, bringing his hand back in for the umpteenth time and patting its frigidity against his cheek. His body did a dramatic shiver, popping his spine. He d thinned so much since coming here despite their vitamins: The anti-depressants and sleeping pills sucked away all his energy and appetite. He felt himself not needing the bathroom anymore, not needing water or a coat because of their damn warm rooms! S-Stupid place. He grunted to himself for what had to be at least the thousandth time this day. He wanted out, and the more he wanted for it, the worse his imprisonment became. He was caged and it made him physically ill because he could do nothing about it. He threw his hand out past the bars, scooped up several handfuls of rain and splashed them on his hollowed face with the determination to become a raindrop. It made his bandages stick tighter, shrinking around his wrists, and the deep wounds beneath them throb something fierce, but he still continued his ritual because it was so warm!

The warmth was dreadful, something worse than torture. It taunted him about Sam, spat in his face with every room he entered, every shower he took and ever bite of food that went into his mouth and he had to spit out to keep from retching. Every time he lay under lukewarm sheets, he tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Soon They were fixing that, giving him Restoril and Dalmane to drug him into a sleep-like stupor, but it never actually helped him sleep. Every day he woke up feeling like he was a zombie. And when the medicine faded, the headaches were worse. They didn t care either. They, that ghastly, sinking They. The people keeping him here, torturing him every night. He d stopped crying in his sleep a while ago, but he still could not lose the pain of never seeing Sam when he woke, instead only seeing a horrifying They looming over his bed.

The thing was, Vincent shouldn t even be in this hospital. This stupid, stupid hospital. Mercy Child and Young Adult Mental Health Center didn t exactly sound like his type of place. Hell, even school fit him more than here. But after being hauled around from boarding house to boarding house, each worse for him than the last, he suspected he d end up in some looney bin in the end. Was this the end? Vin wondered as he brought more of the cool water from inside and hit himself in the face with it, each glacial trickle leaving a memory on his skin.

The warmth here was wonderful. When he woke up to it, he woke up grinning. And he was grinning right now into Sam s handsome shoulder, the arm connected to it wrapped around him. They d finally done it, he realized as he opened his eyelids and observed Sam s face in front of his, with its long jaw line, intense eyes and perfectly thin lips. Now that usually straight and tidy hair was tousled and unkempt, and Vin grinned, because he knew why. He knew it well. It was his hands that tangled it in the dark of a passion filled hour. The pain in his lower half assured him that the last night wasn t a dream. They d finally done it. Sam had finally taken him to bed, like his body yearned for him to do for so many years now.

It was twice as good as he d expected it to be. A little painful at first, but one got over the initial tightness after a while, and Vin could handle pain. He wasn t a feeble p***y, after all. Knowing this, he grinned wider. Yes, he was no p***y, and he could handle anything Sam threw his way. And he wanted Sam to throw things his way now; he wanted more of the last night. It was addicting, and Vincent felt enlightened. Seeing his brother, and only his brother, swaying above him like that, framed in the blurry shape of Vin s eyelashes, groaning, grunting, sighing and moaning because of the pleasures he gave. How marvelous was that? Vin felt very good about himself indeed.

Except for that pain in his lower half. He needed that solved. And he started getting an idea how. Sitting up, he removed the heavy arm of his sleeping lover off him, and got out of bed. Beside the pain, he still had to go to the bathroom. He figured that would hurt a bit. Creeping into the bathroom, Vin only then realized he was entirely clothless and sneaking around his house at five in the morning. Strange.

Belaying that, he went into the bathroom down the hall and sat down on the chilly toilet seat. Things went. That s the best he could explain it without going into the dirty details, but all in all, it hurt and it was somehow a little easier. He supposed he wasn t going to tell this to his doctor on his next sport s physical.

When he returned to bed all ship-shape and prepared by his standards, having rinsed off really quick in the shower, Vince slipped to the side of Sam s bed and reached his leg over his brother, who d turned so he was tilted more on his back. This roused him a bit, and the man muttered something incoherent. Vin smiled and leaned over, bringing his lips from the tip of his lover s shoulder, down his collarbone and landed on his neck, lips sensuously sucking the skin. As a twelve year old, this was one of his favorite things to envision doing, and now he could. His damp hair tickled the one below, leaving small dots of moisture on his flesh. Sam mumbled again, lying flat on his back now. Vin grinned, but had to stop in order to rake his teeth over the skin of Sam s jaw. From there, he moved on to Sam s chin, where he took it upon himself to bite the flesh presented to him before taking up Sam s bottom lip in his teeth.

Uh Vin Sam murmured and the brother felt his heart race. Was Sam dreaming about him? He couldn t tell. So he intended to find out. Deciding it would be a bit odd to start making out with a sleeping man, Vin instead wandered about his body, taking time to analyze each fantasy he d turn non-fictional this morning. How long had he dreamt of swirling his tongue around that bellybutton of Sam s? How long had he been dreaming he was encasing one of Sam s hard nipples in his mouth, pinching at it with his teeth? Over all the things he learned as a teenager about sex, he wanted to do them all to Sam.

Mmmmmm . Sam voiced when Vin s electric touch slid down the fine, nearly invisible blond trail of hair to his pelvis. Watching his older, responsible, hard-working brother s face contort and then relax had him excited, and he circled his bent middle finger in the hair below. Now it glided up and down the side of Sam s partially erected member, moving to the very tip and sliding itself along the crease. Vin watched Sam s breath hitch while he continued to slumber. Ahh . Vi . It was like silk. But the younger brother demanded his entire name be said, and placed his lips right next to the curve of Sam s ear.

Sam He whispered, finding it not hard to come up with a lustful tone. He was in fact throbbing down south, and it was nearly painful. Oh... Sam... He sucked on the earlobe before him, moaning in want.

Ah, Vin Sam replied and the younger male smirked.

Are you dreaming about me, Sam? he asked, and returned down Sam s long body, sliding his aching entrance against the excitement below. It was throbbing down there, as if there were a heartbeat pounding for a penetration.

Now Sam really woke up, his startling blue eyes snapping wide as he realized that this was not part of his sleep s imagining. Those dazzling sapphire orbs centered on Vin, the teen sitting on his hips, hands rubbing along his chest. It seized a breath in Sam s chest. Oh no, Vin was just a boy! What was he doing on his Then he remembered the last night, how they d finally gotten around to making love. Vin s first time, the dear heart. He was sixteen now, moving on seventeen, no longer a boy. But what was he doing now ?

Vin? he mumbled a little groggily, though quickly waking up, and his little brother nodded, reaching down and pulling at something. Sam felt it and instantly gasped out the breath he d held in. Had he just woken up aroused with his little needy brother on his chest? It would appear so. What are you doing?

Vin s smile widened. The teen wasn t feeling the least bit guilty about this. Leaning up, Vin kissed his older brother intensely, curling his fingers in his hair. Sam osculated back, falling into the move with ease, and rested his hand on the back of Vin s head. But Vin s hands were trailing downward and Sam stopped before he let another gasp escape, grabbing Vin s wrists.

What are you doing?

Vin sighed heavily. Will you just shut up and have sex with me? he said, starting to get agitated. Sam stared.

Well Jeeze, Vin, I didn t think Aren t you sore? he asked sheepishly.

Not sore enough. Now can we..? Vin gestured with his hips, rocking them for a moment. Sam s brows rose and he felt himself twitch fiercely against Vin s back. His little brother took that as a yes. Sliding backwards, Vin perched himself above Sam s large arousal, looking down at it. He hated it when Sam looked at him down there it embarrassed the hell out of him but Sam never seemed to mind when Vin stole a long stare at his crotch, which happened often. It was big, Vin had always noticed with satisfaction, and knowing that he could holster such a large desirable thing made his ego soar. None of those stupid, pretty girls at Sam s work could handle this thing like he could even if he d only done that once. Well, he was going to make a habit out of it, right now.

But Sam grabbed him and flopped him over on the bed. Sam, I wanna be on top! Vin said angrily, struggling under him, but it only took one touch from his older brother down there and the boy was silenced. Albeit, a very moan filled silence.

You don t get to be on top until you know how to handle it. Sam said, which made the younger of the two scowl. Sam s long fingers slid from his waist, making a long trail down his navel and past his fully erected need, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Why don t you watch, Vin? See how it s done.

Oh boy, there he went again, always playing teacher. Though Vin sat up on his elbows, legs bent and spread wide on either side of him, and his chest moved quickly when the tip of a finger poked into his entrance. He couldn t see all of it down there, but he saw Sam s hand movements and he could feel what was happening. The warm fingers tickling his entrance, close by his area of absolute pleasure. His eyelids lowered a fraction, a small noisy breath tumbling out of his mouth. Sam glanced at Vin s face, but had his eyes on his work. His entire middle finger was pushed inside the hole, and it started moving around. Vin caught his breath when its nail brushed against that freshly harbored cluster of nerves.

M .more Vin urged, but Sam shook his head.

A little more stretching will do. He said quietly, and to distract his brother he leaned down and started sucking on his throat, the vibrations from Vin s callings trembling up to his lips. Sam finally bent his first finger and slid another one in. Vin wheezed, grabbing Sam s neck and dragging his nails down it until he was sure he had half of the man s skin under his fingertips.

See now, I don t want to hurt you. Sam whispered into the others ear, his fingers probing and spreading. It was like magic on Vin, and he puffed quickly, starting to move his legs in his excitement. You still have school later.

Screw school. Vin panted. Sam stopped momentarily.

Don t say that. he said lightly, his fingers picking back up and spreading the widest yet.

Vin winced. Then screw me.

It would be a lie to say it didn t turn Sam on quite a bit to hear that, and he felt excited to get into Vin, who had been so unbelievably perfect the last night. Vin hadn t been the only one pining all these years.

Finding three fingers in Vin now, he figured his brother had enough room, though he withdrew and went to the edge of the bed, by the nightstand. From there he removed a singly used bottle of ointment, and unscrewed the slippery cap. While this was being done, Vin was impatient for more, sliding himself up and down along the sheets and hissing for him to hurry.

But Sam went along as usual, silently trying not to look too frantic lest his brother find that offensive of course, this idea was wrong, as Vin would had loved to see his brother riled up by him. So, while Sam nurtured his need with the oily gel, Vin had crawled over and smacked the tube out of his hand. Climbing into Sam s lap, he could feel the slick hardness brush against the inside of his thigh, and he felt so unbelievably, intensely wound up he could barely keep a grip of himself.

Sam took him by the hips, to his surprise, and brought their stomachs close, looking at Vin s flushed face. Are you paying attention? he asked quietly before his lips were stolen away by a fiery kiss. How could Vin pay attention at this moment?! Vin mentally shook his head at his brother. There was no paying attention when you were horny, he thought, as if he d known this all his life.

Can you just stop talking and put your damned d**k in me? he demanded, though he knew he d get in trouble for this later. That was the downside to having your lover also as your parental figure. Sam sighed, which irritated the boy further.

Why don t you do it? You think you re ready, go on. I m ready. he said quietly, and let his knees fall to the sides, leaving himself open to his little brother. Now that was something Vince wanted to hear.

So, without further ado, Vin moved deep into Sam s lap, grabbing one of his shoulders in one hand, his slippery member in the other, and used his own outstretched pinky to find his chasm. Once it had been sighted, he placed Sam s tip against it, and pushed a little ways. He lurched and kept a small noise in. After all that pleasure the other night, he d nearly forgotten this painful feeling. But he ventured on, determined to show Sam how ready he was for these things and got himself around the entire head. He paused then, leg muscles beginning to burn and a throbbing tightness in his a** where he had Sam positioned. His brother was breathing heavily in his ear, eyes half mast.

Go on and move again. Sam breathed, trying not to sound hurried, but this painfully slow operation was driving him crazy with desire. His hands pressed firmly against Vin s lower back, which slid him down some and made the boy gasp and wince.

All right? Was all Sam could manage to say in concern because he was trembling with need for the boy. The strong muscles constricting around him were enough to make him mad, and he really had to refrain from moving in all the way and taking over. But he allowed Vin to give a shaky nod before, to both of their surprise, letting the weight of his hips pull him quickly down.

Like pulling off a Band-Aid, Vin thought before this happened, and he closed his eyes, clenching his teeth. Move quickly and it doesn t hurt as much. He dropped. This made him cry out loudly, not having expected such a shock to shoot through his midsection. His cheeks had hit Sam s hips, their skin connecting like a burning coal against dry paper. He d gone all the way down and it hurt. Apparently Sam had not honored his entire body last night, because this was far more than Vin had ever intended. He panted against Sam s neck, wondering if he could go on.

But Sam seemed to see this coming, and slid his hands to cup Vin s quaking butt cheeks, sliding his fingers in the crevice and gripping there. He pulled the muscle apart while he lifted Vincent up, eyes glazing over while a pleasure buzzed through his body. Vin whimpered.

Can you go? Sam asked a bit shakily. The boy nodded and, aided by Sam s hands, slowly started shifting. Sam refrained, as he had the last night, from moving too quickly despite how hard it was to keep from just instinctually thrusting away. Just the tight warmth of Vin s inner cavities had Sam sighing, oohing and aahing.

There was a short thrust to the side and Vin s eyes popped open. There had been a discovery!

A-Ah, Sam!

The older didn t stop, recognizing this as a cry of pleasure, and responded by lifting his hips to meet Vin s while the grip was tightened around his shoulders. They concussed together along the bed, soon falling to its sheets when they could not longer hold each other up, and Sam lay over Vince, pushing the smaller male s left knee up to his chest and dissolving in the results. Vin was finding it hard to breath while his leg pressed into his chest, and the tightening muscles due to this were burning, and in a sense, all these things heightened his need to his brother. The lack of oxygen made him dizzy and made him feel high, while the throbbing gave the more eclectic brother a masochistic pleasure. Agh, ah, Sam, harder, harder, harder His words were jumbled and mixed with his moans, all things barely audible. Could he help himself? The urges were just taking over him, and Sam fixed them by heeding his please for more. For more and more and more. The thrusts quickened to a more intense pace, drawing them both closer to the tips of their peaks, and the bed actually began to creak on its hinges, the headboard bumping into the wall and rubbing off its ivory paint. Sam s gasps were short and workable, constant and in rhythm. His little brother s were loud and unconscious, breaking from his chest and demanding for more of what his lover gave. They were wild and untamed, and though Sam felt he was restraining, after a while he stopped holding back, losing control over his feelings. He couldn t ignore the cries of his brother, couldn t deny what his body needed from him, and he truly began to ravish the boy, grabbing the mattress through the sheets and rocking forcefully against him, skin slapping together stridently.

Neither ever wanted to stop, truly enthralled and obsessed with their actions together. But there was a boiling point met in his stomach, and Vin felt it starting to overflow. Sam can t I m g-gunna c-caaah . He couldn t even finish, the last word swept away by a load moan that had him clinging to his brother. Spilling openly over both he and Sam s stomachs, Vin gasped and panted, the world spiraling in and out of his vision. Sam continued to swing inside him, dragging on his ending euphoria, and finally, Sam threw his head back with a silent cry and their hips were nailed together while a hot fluid shot into Vin.

Panting and sweating profusely, they collapsed into one another, Sam falling downward over his younger brother. Vin, busily trying to catch his breath and swallow down his dry throat, let his arms fall off Sam s shoulders and to the torrid sheets. Twice used sheets.

Soon, he had the energy to smile. Ah . God . Just . He locked his heels around Sam s thighs, holding the man into him, where the hardness there had turned soft. Sam panted, forcing himself to perch on his hands over the other. Mhm, Vin, we have to clean up. It s thirty minutes until school starts he mumbled breathily, glancing at the bedside clock. Vin ignored that last comment and pulled Sam back down on him.

Screw school.

Vin. Sam said warningly.

Oh, c mon Sam, just do it to me one more time. We ll make it a quickie. The boy pleaded, flexing his stomach so that his abdomen clenched tightly. He could feel Sam s member quiver a bit. Being younger, Vin was quicker to gain back his energy, and was already returning to spirit. Perhaps fifteen minutes and he d be ready for round three. Sam, on the other hand, had work in two hours and would need a very long shower and perhaps an energy drink from the gas station down the way. A coffee actually sounded marvelous. However, it was apparent that his little brother wasn t letting him go as of the moment.

Vin. He said again, voice stern. Vin sighed, sensing his loss already in this battle. Letting his legs drop, he lifted his hips a bit in order to have Sam draw away, and after a moment he did. Something spilled heavily to the sheets and Sam blushed. Vin looked down and saw why. From his entrance, thick, creamy liquid seeped like a waterfall, gushing over the bed sheets and down his skin, bubbling faintly. Blushing a bit himself, he smiled.

You came right in me, Sam. He said. His brother s cheeks darkened.

Just because you re sixteen doesn t mean you get to talk like that. he said, but Vin disregarded that and pulled Sam back over him.

I m also your lover now, Sam. He said coyly into the man s ear. And I m a dirty teenager. I ll say what I want to you, and you ll just have to punish me for it.

Sam s eyebrows rose. His little brother must have been watching some X-rated movies lately because Sam never heard him talk like this. And this chatter about Sam coming inside him, he d have to put up fences on that as well. He had the upper hand, he was glad to say, and used it moments later. Vincent. He said, voice already firm. The boy looked at him, still smiling in a knowing way. You are going to behave, and you are going to school or you won t get to do this with me.

That made the little brother mad. He rolled his eyes and tossed his body over, more precious juices sliding out behind. That s stupid. He mumbled, blowing his sweaty bangs out of his face. Sam leaned over him, and in doing so, pressed his front to Vin s back again.

No, it s what you get. Until you can work wisely, you re not getting any of he paused, feeling a bit frisky himself now that he d had a moment to recuperate, and bumped his manhood into Vin s crevice. This. Understand?

Fine, fine. Vin said after a moment of grumbling and rolled back over. But just one quickie !

No. School. Now.

Turned out, Vince wasn t late for school, nor was he any days after that. Because of the deal, he never missed a day and he never let Sam be late for work. Things from there, because of Sam s rules, remained as normal and inconspicuous as possible, the single difference being both males seemed to be smiling a lot more.

Only once had they made a slip and done something so terribly dangerous that it got them caught, and Vin felt horrible because it was mainly his fault. If it wasn t for that, then Vincent Fischer wouldn t be in this Mercy Hospital

Stupid place. He said, bottom lip trembling while his eyes shook at the window and its hollow breeze. He wished he hadn t thought of that memory now, it only guilted him. If only he d heeded Sam s warnings and not gone to his office that night. If only he hadn t gotten Sam all wound up and climbed into his office chair, then having himself pinned to the desk. Because Sam s manager was staying late and wanted to drop paperwork for the next day s third-quarter pages, and how had he found them? Vincent would never forget himself. If it wasn t for that, if he d only heeded Sam s warnings, he wouldn t be here.

There, now you can t escape. Sam chuckled under the sheets and Vin tried to wriggle his way out from under the man.

That s what you think! the younger responded, and twisted his body in a valiant way, but only ended up knotting further into his older brother s ensnaring arms and his legs tangled in the bed spread. Damnit he puffed, giving in as of the moment. His eyes narrowed playfully. You ll never take me alive. That made Sam laugh, and he came in to kiss one of Vin s nipples, then nibbled the other.

I never intended to. He said quietly, a smile on his lips, and his free hand tickled Vin s sides again. The boy wiggled and jerked, trying to escape them, but couldn t, held by Sam s strong, lengthy arms.

Jerk. He said.

Slave. His brother replied.

Vincent huffed. It was stuffy under these covers and they d been wrestling around for a while now. He poked his head out the top of the sheets and inhaled several large breaths of cool, fresh air before sinking back to fight against Sam once more.

Funny, he said, twisting his wrists while arching his back. I never figured you were one for kinky bondage.

Hardly. Sam replied, now licking his neck and pressing their hips together on and off in a teasing way that had Vin squirming worse. I m more into the sweet love.

Vin made his face look disappointed by that, though he loved Sam s sweet love . Because that sweet love could be anything from slow and steady to hard and hot. However his face looked, Vince couldn t help another boyish giggle at the thought of the other night, when Sam had practically pinned him to the couch, the Christmas lights dazzling over them from their tree while carols emitted from the stereo. So, instead of spending Christmas morning out in the living room, they were now spending it in bed, wrestling and making short, bursting love every fifteen minutes or so. Right now they were taking a break, and Sam had somehow gotten his little brother in this hold that he simply could not get out of.

You re such a jerk! Vin exclaimed when another tickle came his way. Sam smiled and winked, nuzzling his nose into the ticklish area of his brother s nape.

You re such a tasteful, delectable treat, my little brother. Sam responded, his voice dripping with desire. Vin smiled, shaking his head.

What s that supposed to mean? he asked with a laugh.

That I wish to eat you. Sam slunk down Vin s body and kissed on his inner thigh, coming along the tender spot on the topmost skin of his groin. Vin moaned, kicking his legs back and forth so that the cloth wrapped around them was tossed aside, though they remained in their little shelter.

Mmmm Am I that tasty? he asked breathily, wanting to know how badly his brother desired his salty excretion.

Very. I m going to eat all of you up said Sam as he slipped his tongue out to lick up the large vein running along the underside of Vin s p***s.

And then you ll be fat. Vin gasped just barely. J-jerk

Sam didn t answer, now gripping the length with his free hand and holding him straight before his mouth where he licked, sucked and gently bit the sensitive skin. Sighing through his nose, he opened his mouth and placed the head in it, though refrained from any contact, only letting his hot breath descend over it. He looked back up at Vin, who was writhing back and forth passionately. Sam moved away, smiling. Vin stared at him down his quickly rising and falling chest, which is what the other wanted. With his brother s attention, Sam returned to the place of pleasure and placed his mouth back around the end, this time closing his lips around it, encasing it in his sultry affection.

Vincent groaned outright, tossing his head back. Sam had stopped holding him down a while ago, an entirely different reason keeping him trapped under the sheets, which fluttered around them now as Sam s head moved up and down along his rigidity. But Vin continued to watch when he could, finding it absolutely erotic to see that succulent mouth sighing and closing around his already weeping member. They locked gazes, Sam s startling eyes piercing up through the dim light seeping through the sheets and honed on Vin s hazels. His head rose and fell, pushed in and pulled out in a constant motion while his fingers slid further down to please the dangling appendages underneath, now solid and tensed. His ring finger met with Vin inside and stroked at his prostate.

The combined pleasures were almost too much for Vincent, and his chest shuttered. N-nah .. G-God . He barely got out, his voice caught in his throat and unable to move. Then, quite suddenly, he sat up, the sheets sinking into his mouth as he inhaled a loud, abrupt gasp and he grabbed onto Sam s hair, squeezing it painfully. With a buck of his hips, he came fully and greatly into Sam s waiting orfice, the liquid unable to keep trapped during the younger male s sudden movement, and sliding out of the sides of the pleasure-giving lips, dripping down the jolting anatomy. Vin fell back down, his body still tense with orgasm, chest heaving, hair sticking to his sweaty face. Sam coughed a bit, surprised by the impulsive explosion in his mouth and how it nearly went down the wrong tube. The clear, gooey fluid dribbled down his chin, and he wiped it away before any more could drip onto Vin, who s stomach was shaking and seized with tautness.

Kissing Vin s bellybutton, Sam impelled his tongue out and let the emission slid along it and into the small crater in the center of his flat stomach. Vin shivered heavily.

Augh, no he struggled for a breath and Sam smiled. He was proud of his little brother, the brave trooper. Moving up, he forgot the mess and kissed his brother hotly on the lips, sinking his salty, musty tongue into the open, panting mouth waiting for him.

Vin s body was lit up, delving in the sensations that seemed heightened by ten times, making every touch and kiss enormously sensitive on the rest of him. He shuddered with Sam s slick, flavorful tongue as it entered and slid under his, bringing it back into the harbor of Sam s mouth, where he sucked on it. A-ah .

Mm, pretty tasty, wouldn t you say? Sam whispered with a smile after the lustful kiss was broken. What do you think?

Finally, the younger male was able to conjure up a bit of his sanity back. I think he said at length, getting his breath under control. You should do that more often.

What? And risk choking to death? Sam teased, very pleased that Vin had like that so much, and kissed his neck, then his jaw, finally licking the inner shell of his ear. Mmmh You tasted better than anything I ve ever had. He continued to whisper wonderful things into Vin s ear as they slowly started moving around again under the steaming covers, telling him how scrumptious his flavor was, and how luscious his voice sounded when it summoned his name. Sometimes he d murmur a lewd comment or two, giving in to Vin s compulsory cravings.

What do you think when I am not here to satisfy you? Sam breathed into Vin s ear while he ran his hand along the teen s stomach. He surprised himself by finding that his bawdy ruse was even turning him on.

Vince was sniggering a bit, tickled by the hot breath on his ear, and playfully pushed at Sam s chest. He loved it when Sam was this way with him. Oh, nothing. I m never without satisfaction.

Now Sam was curious. Really, what do you think? He asked while nipping his brother s nose, just the tip. Vin snorted, an attractive pink hitting his cheek.

You really want to know?

Yes Tell me your fantasies, little sinner. He crept down his body again and Vin hissed through his teeth.

Well he began a bit embarrassedly, watching Sam s tongue dance around his bellybutton, still sticky from earlier. I like to imagine you have me pinned against a wall. He admitted. Sam looked up, smiling.

Really?

He nodded, face more red still. Yeah You ve got your d**k in my a**, and two of your fingers, and you are ******** me He stopped, itching his cheek with a pointer finger as his brother made the usual Don t cuss or you re getting grounded face (not that Vin had ever been grounded in his life). Er, you re railing me really hard, and He didn t want to go on, already embarrassed.

That s what you think when you think of me? Sam asked slowly, staring up at him, appalled. Vin turned crimson and kicked Sam s shoulder hard.

Jerk! Fine, what do you think when you re jerking the carrot to the thought of me? he demanded, making Sam laugh outright.

When I m jerking the carrot? he asked. Is that what you kids come up with these days?

That s not funny. Tell me. I told you my secret, so you tell me yours. Vin demanded, folding his arms and looking away. Sam paused to come back up and lay on top of his brother.

You want to hear? Vin nodded and Sam smiled, resting his face against the pillow under Vin s shoulder, and gazing happily at him. I like to think of us at the ranch house, in that big old bed I used to have. It s morning and we re taking turns kissing each other and finding the sensitive places, the ticklish spots, the pleasurable areas. Vin hooted with laughter then, interrupting him.

That s it?! he cackled, kicking his legs up and down. Just that?

Sam smiled smally, a bit apologetic. I m sorry if it s not like your kinky wall sex.

Really, that s your fantasy? Dude, we can do that any old time, how is that some wish? That s lame. Vin shook his head, still with chuckles, and Sam revengefully pinched his n****e, making him yelp.

It s not lame, it s just not your perverted dream. d**k and two fingers, honestly He said defensively, though he still smiled and got to shaking his head. His own wasn t that great, he d fully admit, and Vin was probably turned off by the idea of a calm night. He sighed. Fine, there is more. He admitted and that caught Vin s attention, but not before he took another crack at him.

What? We re feeding pigeons in the park?

Don t be persnickety, Vin.

Persnickety? Vin scoffed and simply erupted with laughter.

It s one at my office. We re there after closing hours, everyone has gone home. You come over after school, and you re wearing a cute little pair of black underwear under your clothes, just small little things. Sam interrupted Vin s laughter, looking him straight in the eye intensely. His voice got stronger and quicker the more he went on. You start a little strip tease, you re crawling over my desk, biting and licking your lips, curling your finger at me. You climb in my lap, pull on my tie. We kiss hotly, aggressively, intensely and your tongue belongs to me. You put my tie on and play pet with me, which I argue to, but you re so insistant, Vin, you re begging me.

Sam had Vincent s full attention, his russet eyes wide, mouth open. There was no laughter on his face anymore.

You beseech me to give it to you, Sam continued powerfully, his voice rocking the boy. So at last I ll comply, but slowly, and you re screaming, you can t stop. I love it when you scream, it drives me wild! So I tell you louder, louder, and finally it shatters the glass pencil jar on my desk while I m pounding into you, papers flying and wood creaking loudly. We re fornicating, Vin, we re doing it hard. He stopped, breathless.

Vin stared up at his brother, mouth having moved from split to agape. He didn t know what fornicating meant, but it sounded dirty and it sounded hot. This fantasy, it was much more erotic. It had Vincent s body aching. But there was only one thing he didn t like about it. Shattering the glass? he asked skeptically.

Sam s face broke out into a smile. It s a fantasy, Vin, there s always going to be a willing suspension of disbelief.

They laughed together, the hot tension in their tent dissipating some. It was Christmas morning, and the brothers stayed in bed all day, revealing their secret places, pleasurable areas, sensitive spots while their deep inner fantasies became more real. Vin ended up getting his wish when Sam posted him against the kitchen refrigerator while they were hunting for milk and cookies, and then they hit the kitchen floor until they d managed to get not just two fingers in together. Sorry Santa, no cookies for you.

It wasn t Christmas the day it happened, but a week later, Vin went out after school and bought a small pair of black underwear.

There was a creak at the door and Vince ignored it, knowing just who it was. He didn t want to see his court ordered guardian; the evil woman working for Them that assigned him to all those horrible boarding houses and finally brought him here. She would come in every week at about this time and try to talk him into a new deal. She was the It ll better your conditions so you can finally move on, all you have to do is sign here and I ll get a paycheck so big I could buy whatever I want, like the Lamborghini Gelada that s parked right out side, making the rain look like ******** mud lady and he d give his usual refusal, which sounded a lot like Truck Blue , and She would leave for another employer that She would undoubtedly torture as She did him.

You haven t been taking the Cymbalta lately, can you explain that? She said first thing and he put his hand out the window. It dripped on the floor as he brought it back in, a puddle already cultivated there. Her hands were probably clasped around that leather, buckle-up binder She always carried that had all his records and files in it, 99.9% over the last year, as his troubles hadn t started until then.

Why won t you take your medication? She insisted and he wanted so badly to be flying out the window like the worsening storm. Maybe She would get in a car wreck on Her way from this place and he wouldn t have to deal with Her or Her stupid car anymore.

I don t need it. He said dispassionately and he could practically hear Her rolling Her eyes behind those stupid horn-rimmed glasses with their little fake jewels. He wanted to break them.

Yes, you do. You re clinically depressed, Vincent, and you ve started missing sleep because of it. Restoril isn t cheap. And you re violent. You won t explain the fights you ve gotten into, the boy you put in a hospital.

Maybe if I was with Sam, I wouldn t be this way. he said, but She cut him off half way through sharply because he d said this many times to Her before.

Vincent, I go through hundreds of domestic abuse cases like yours a day, and I always hear the same thing. She said, pulling statistics on him. Rarely does a case ever heal.

That s all he was to Her. Another case. He hated Her for that.

She didn t seem to notice. You were a victim of incestual abuse for nearly your entire life, and since you and Samner refuse to cooperate, we can only assume it started before your father died and left you alone with him.

You assume like an idiot. He snapped, finally turning to look at Her, vehemence dripping from every pore in his face. Sam loves me, and I willingly love him. We didn t even have sex until I was sixteen!

She only nodded, like this was expected. Yes, Vincent, most statutory rapists as close with their victims as you two were have a boundary statement that allows them to gain satisfaction from the unattainable. Samner was holding off for his own fantasies to

His name is Sam! Vince yelled, throwing his fists down and scattering droplets of water. You stupid b***h, he loved me! You just can t seem to get that in your head, that he might have actually loved his little brother!

This is subtly connected to what we call Stockholm Syndrome

******** you! ******** you and your stupid ******** nametags for everything! I am not crazy and I m not some stupid ******** victim! I. Want. To. See. Sam.

She only stared hard at him, unaffected by his language or antics. Snapping Her leather buckle-up briefcase, She stood. I can see your condition has not changed, nor has it improved by any means. I m concerned and disappointed. She said, sounding like she could care more about superglue manufacturing. I shall see you for your last hearing on the fourteenth before you are sent to the Mercy Adult Treatment Center in Texas. This saddens me, Vincent. You could have escaped your dark past, but you still refuse to take part in your healing. You ll wish you d tried harder in the future. She turned on one of Her sharp heals and pulled open the door. Vin gave a short three step chase.

I m not ******** sick! You can t do this! He already felt like crying, sobbing in fact. She was gone finally, but what she d left him with was worse than her evil presence. Texas? That was all the way across the country! How could Sam find him, come save him if he was institutionalized in Texas?! Oh God... Sam... He went to his tiny bed with its squeaky hinge and its painful springs, and he leapt onto it. More like collapsed. Saaaam he moaned, crying hard into his doctored arms. Doctored they were, like everything else in his life. When would They realize he wasn t crazy? That all he needed was his brother s love to be fixed? He hated Them, he loathed Them. If he could, he d kill every single one of Them with his own hands. Or perhaps he d drug Them with his pills, give Them a taste of Their own medicine for real. Look what they did! They made him think this way, imagine all these violent endings for Them! They were causing more harm than They were subduing it. But he already knew that, didn t he?

Vin s tears dried quickly because he d rebuilt himself to have little waterworks. It was something They looked for here, a breakdown, a emotional split, but he wouldn t give this hunt any satisfaction, no, he would fight until the end. He was a sole survivor, and he wouldn t let Them take his spirit, not ever. Sitting up on the lukewarm sheets, Vin reached over to the corner of his mattress and lifted it. Beneath lay a rather crumpled piece of pink, folded paper. He carefully unwedged it from between the springs.

Opening his palm, he let the little origami crane sit upright in his hand. His eyes softened as he looked over the beautifully perfected craft. He took it to the window with him. Can you fly? He whispered to it, holding it close to his chest now as he stared outward at the world that was so free. Peeking through the cracks of his hands, he gazed downward upon the crane, its edges a little worn from travel, but cared for none the less. Sam s little creation, his doing; that was what this piece was. Vin smiled a bit in thought, holding it to his chest again. He knew what was written inside it, the sweet words that got him through the harshest of days. Vin plus Sam The boy murmured and the rain seemed to repeat the three syllables back to him, pattering down on the cement sill on the outside of the bars. Vin plus

Sam.

The oldest brother turned in his seat, looking over his square glasses at Vin in the doorway. You said something? The younger nodded and came into the den, his hoodie dirty and worn, the elbows patched repeatedly from the skids he d taken on his skateboard, which was under one arm at the moment.

Yeah I m going out with some friends. Vin stated, talking oddly quiet with his hand in his pocket while he sniffed. It was pretty cold outside, this autumn.

Didn t you just get home? His brother asked, frowning a bit while his eyes searched Vin up and down. The other shrugged. Where are you going?

Nowhere

You re going nowhere with your friends? Sam asked slowly. He waved a hand, swinging back to the desk in his seat. Well, by all means, have fun doing that. Vin didn t smile. Sam stopped, realizing there was something very amiss about his little brother.

Vin, what s wrong? He asked gently. Vin looked down at his muddy skate shoes, lifting the toes and rocking back on his heels like he did when he was ashamed of himself or nervous. His brother noticed this, watching the younger teeter before dropping his toes back down on the carpet. Bits of dirt and dried mud fell off, but Sam made no comment.

I have a date tonight. Vin said quietly, looking off at the right wall of the office, biting his tongue. His hat pushed his thick blond hair down around his face, and the shorter bangs over his eyes, which he used now to shield them from his older brother s obviously surprised stare.

You have a date? Sam asked after a term of silence between them, and he stared with his mouth slightly open at Vin, hardly daring to believe what he said.

Yup

Vin you re saying you have a date with someone. An actual date. It was hard to tell if it was a question or not, but it was apparent that whatever Sam had expected, it was not this. Vin now slouched with his hands in his pockets and one toe digging into the carpet while he chewed the inside of his lips and looked off.

Yeah, I guess I am. Vin answered, finally turning to look at Sam, and his very brown hazel eyes were somber, depressed. Sam recognized one of his little brother s lows in an instant, and figured out quite quickly that the date most likely happened by one of Vin s straight friends. Seeing as Vin never had girlfriends or went on dates, it was hard for his friends to understand what was wrong with him, and it earned the teen plenty of teases and jokes. Sam knew this because Vin explained this several times and seemed a bit confused by it. But Sam told him time after time that this is how Vin had chosen for it to be. To have your brother as a lover would affect your outside life, which is why they couldn t let it become part of it.

I see Who are you going with?

Becky Hornworst.

Sam paused. Is she pretty? Vin looked up, seeming a bit surprised at the comment from his brother. He slowly shrugged and pulled a hand out of his pocket to level it and wobble it back and forth in a so-so manner. Is she smart? Another shrug and mediocre motion of the hand. .Is she easy? Vin nodded. I see.

There was another nerve of silence between the two brothers, the older looking up at the younger from his desk. His glasses were now off and sitting on his papers, his expression hard to read. Vin continued to look everywhere else but at him. Finally, Sam gave a quite cluck with his tongue. Well, enjoy yourself, Vin. If she s not intelligent, I suppose I don t have much competition.

You re ******** joking, right? Vin stated blankly, but he looked irritated. You don t actually think I m going because I think she s easy and I can have sex with her, do you?

It was Sam s turn to look surprised. Of course not, Vin, I was being mordant. He motioned for Vincent with his hand and the younger shuffled over, hunched in his jacket with his hands in the pockets, leaving his skateboard behind on the floor. Sam pulled him down into his lap and placed a kiss on his cheek. You don t have to feel so unhappy, Vin. It s alright if you go on dates. I know you still love me.

Yeah, but I mean, if I go on dates, then you could go on dates, and I don t want you going on dates Vin mumbled, staring at his shoes again. Sam smiled gently and ran his hand under the back of Vin s hat, through his hair.

I m not the dating type. He said kindly. It s fine, really. Life is hard when you re a teen, I know. I raised you all by myself when I was your age, don t you remember? But I ve loved you from the start and there s nothing like a silly date that s going to change anything. Alright?

Vin didn t answer for a while, tapping his toes together while he contemplated this. Sam in the mean time, hugged him softly around the shoulders and kissed a bare patch on his neck . Besides he whispered. I know that none of those high school girls can match me in the bedroom. The younger brother finally cracked a smile and shook his head at his brother.

Don t get cocky. He warned and Sam shrugged.

What can I say? I m just a beast like that. Vin laughed again.

Okay, totally don t say that.

Why not?

SOOO uncool. They both chuckled together, snuggling close. Vin sighed. You know, I really don t wanna go Honest.

I believe you, Sam replied softly, his forehead in Vin s temple. But you re a teenager, I want you to have a good time. Go out on the date, have fun, enjoy yourself. You don t have to kiss her at the end of the night, and who knows? Maybe you two will end up as friends.

Vin was unconvinced. Uh, I m pretty sure the only friends she has are the ones with special benefits. Sam rolled his eyes.

Fine. He turned them both a little in the seat and reached over his shoulder to pick up a small sheet of scrap paper from his desk and a pen. The paper was pink, copy manual he used at work for the regimen sheets, but he didn t notice the color, and instead used Vin s leg as a desk, writing something on the paper. I remember while we were growing up in this apartment, just you and I, me barely nineteen and you such a cute kid You wore those huge, dirty, smelly sweatshirts. He sniffed Vin s jacket and smiled teasingly, then continued to redraw over what he d written on the paper, thickening the letters. Still do. Anyway, no matter where we were, you always found a way to write Vin + Sam on something he drew over the words as he spoke them before showing it to his little brother. Vin took it from his brothers hands and smiled smally at it, remembering just how he did that. He still did sometimes, like at school when he was bored, but he had to be careful lest someone read it. Sam looked at the paper as well, his smile fond and nostalgic.

No matter where You had to write it. Almost as if you were afraid you d forget.

More afraid you d forget. Vin said quietly and continued to stare at his brother s neat, perfect handwriting. The two words above and below the plus sign, he recalled writing it everywhere. Everywhere. He just wanted to make sure his older brother kept in mind that he loved him, and that they were supposed to be together forever. Just the two of them, like always.

Sam watched the paper still, resting his chin on the others shoulder. And I never did Gently he took the paper away, though Vin was reluctant to give it up, but he assured the teen he d give it back. Slipping the paper between his long fingers, the ones so used to typing or gently stroking over his brother s skin, he creased it and began to fold it. Vince watched with fascination as the older male began to form the small square into a shape, its form bending back and forth while Sam recreated it. Finally, Sam opened his palm and in it sat a pink paper crane, its wings folded out as if ready for flight. Vin took it gently.

Take it with you. Sam murmured, wrapping his arms snuggly around Vin s waist. So that you always remember like I did And promise now that you ll always fly home to me

Vin wished he could fly home now. But there were these bars here and he was trapped in a lukewarm room with no one to hold him or care. No one that gave a damn. Hadn t Sam always told him he could fly home to him? That their house was the safe haven, the sanctuary Vin could always return to, seeing as it was the only place that allowed their love to flourish. Yes, Sam said just that, and many times so that his little brother would never forget. It wasn t like Vin was going to, though. No, he was holding on to every little piece of Sam he had left, for that was his only sanity.

It was nearly a year now, and he hadn t even seen his brother once. It was tearing him apart inside and out. First the schools, which he failed out of, then it was the detention centers, which he broke out of, and now it was here. And it seemed that there was no way out of this one, because every time They sent him to some place worse. Now it was to Texas, where he d surely never ever see his brother again. His lover. The man of his life, the only reason he kept on living. Or tried to, but sometimes things got to him, like three days ago when he d broken his therapists glasses and used the frames to try and stab his own wrists and neck to forever be with his pending doom. They d fixed him, which he hated, and now he was left to pick up the remnants of his ruined life and try to find a safe place to put them. But there was no safe place, not here at this hospital. So he projected his last feelings and final hopes onto this little paper bird. The one Sam had given to him.

He looked out at the rain, feeling like it was going to be the last time, and again, he wished he were a raindrop. Then he might find his way back home to Sam. Thinking of his brother s face, Vin slowly uncurled his hand from around the paper crane that bore he and Sam s names, that held his ultimate resorts in it, and reached out his window with it squeezed between his fingers. And then he began to cry. Promise now that you ll always fly home to me

I m sorry, Sam I can t He sobbed, tears spilling down his cheeks to meet with the rain droplets at his feet. The hand stopped protecting the bird from the weather and slowly turned over, casting long strings of water down his arm. The pink crane seemed to fly for just an instant before fluttering away from the window, away from Vin, and to the ground, where it landed in a puddle of rain and melted into a soft pulp of memories. 


End file.
